


Storms

by Taylor_Z



Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Short Film)
Genre: Don't Judge Me, Don't hug me I'm scared, F/M, One-Shot, Padlock Fluff, You're reading it too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taylor_Z/pseuds/Taylor_Z





	Storms

The thunder boomed loudly outside Paige's bedroom window, causing her ears to ring momentarily. Every clap of thunder was accompanied by a bright flash of lightning, bathing the small room in a blindingly bright light. Paige clutched the thin bed sheet with her sweaty palms, searching for something to keep her still as she shook uncontrollably. She desperately needed something to calm her down, but, unfortunately, the sweet sound of the rain against the glass windows had stopped long ago, leaving only the frightening boom of thunder.

A small whimper left Paige's mouth as another clap of thunder circled the house. She tightened her grasp on the bed, her black knuckles turning an ugly shade of grey. Warm, salty, red tears started to flow from her maroon eyes, leaving thin streaks of crimson along her oil-coloured skin. She mentally scolded herself for the small outburst of emotion, telling herself to stop. You're not supposed to cry, she thought to herself, trying to drown out the sound of the weather outside.

Yet the tears didn't stop, they only rolled down her face in a never-ending waterfall. "No one's supposed to know!" she shouted aloud, shooting her hands up to her mouth when she did. Oh no, they heard me . . .

There was a soft knock on her door, footsteps shuffling just outside it. A familiar, tired, quiet voice called out her name, the sound lost among the volume of the storm.

"Paige?" Tony, the owner if the voice, said a bit louder, clearing his throat. "Paige are you alright?"

"Y-Yes," she lied, sniffling and wiping her tears. She pulled her hands away from her face, glancing down at the bright red liquid staining her hands. She grimaced at her hands, the ugly red of her palms and grey of her knuckles making her sick.

"Are you . . . crying?" he asked, his concern for her growing by the second. He turned the knob, only to find it locked. "Paige! Let me in!"

"No!" she screamed. "I don't want you to see me like this!" Though he couldn't see it, Paige gestured to her hands and face, the red pouring from her eyes and on to her clothes, permanently staining them.

"Like what?" Tony asked, now frightened something had happened to her. No, he thought to himself, this isn't happening. She has to be alright. "Open the damn door Paige!" He shouted, frantic to see Paige.

She sat there, unsure of what to do. She looked once more at her hideous hands; she didn't want him to see her, but she needed someone to calm her down. Hesitantly, she stood and walked to the wooden door, leaning her brightly coloured hair on the frame.

"If I do," she heaved a tired sigh, "will you promise not to laugh or think badly of me?" She shut her eyes, not even willing to look at herself as she rested her hand on the door's knob.

"Yes, Paige, I promise. I could never think anything of you except good."

The door swung open, Paige hiding her hands behind her back to ovoid his judging gaze. He looked her up and down, his concern ever-growing. "What happened, Paige?" He asked, extending a hand to cup her face. "I-I-Is this blood?"

Paige rested her face against his hand, taking in what little heat she could get. "Yes."

Suddenly, she was in his arms, face pressed against his chest from the height difference. He rested his chin on her head, smiling as he breathed in her sweet scent. She wrapped her arms around his torso, letting the "tears" fall freely now.

"Sh," he added, walking her to her small, paper-thin sheeted bed. "There's no need to cry . . . not today."

She looked up into his crimson eyes, noting they were now the same colour of your hands. Yet, somehow, it was beautiful on him.

Tony reached back, rummaging in his coat pocket for a moment before pulling out a pale yellow handkerchief. Paige gladly accepted it, wiping the stain from her cheeks and palms.

"I-I'm sorry," she let her voice trail, casting her gaze downward with embarrassment. The once yellow cloth was now coated in a sickly red, ruining it's pleasant appearance.

All he did was smile sadly, though, and wrap an arm around her waist. He lied down on the thin but soft blanket, whispering in her ear, "Sh, it's quite alright."

With that her tears ceased, leaving her eyes tired and heavy. She fought to keep them open, but, ultimately her attempts were useless as she closed them, falling into a deep, calm state of rest.

Upon hearing the soft snores escaping Paige's mouth, Tony smiled, this time not a sheepish one, but a wide smirk that seemed to dance on his blue lips. He leaned down, brushing his face against her's momentarily pecking her cheek in the process. He then whispered so quietly it was almost lost among the loud barks of the storm outside, "I love you, Paige."


End file.
